Vader's Diary
by thejedisentinel
Summary: A peek into Vader's diary. 65% psychotic, 10% paranoid, 15% deluded, 10% spoilt brat and 100% EMO. Padmé should've filed for divorce.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Padmé,

Life has been so difficult since you left. Nobody understands me like you did. Nobody understands my _needs_ the way you did, and nobody KNOWS HOW MUCH THAT IRRITATES ME, when I try to make myself understood and still fail because **people are so DENSE**, they can be so kriffing _stupid_ it boggles the mind that they are still classified as sentients.

NOBODY understands how hard I try! The Boss doesn't understand - he just sits in that fracking overstuffed couch of his _all day_ and mutters to himself and talks funny, and sometimes I swear I think he's talking _backwards_, but I've never been able to confirm this because every time I've tried to listen HARDER (and I always listen hard, you know I do) he kriffing starts _cackling_ to himself; and then it always goes downhill from there, because the minute he starts cackling it sets off this horrid HORRID static effect in the sonic receptors attached to my helmet which really irritates me **badly** because the karking sound of static reminds me of TATOOINE SAND, which is itchy and scratchy and gets into all the wrong crevices, and there wasn't ever very much water to start with on Tatooine; you have to be a fracking _moisture farmer_ to even be able to _afford_ regular baths - and it brings back the memories, and then I start thinking about the time I first met you and you were so pretty and your dress was ridiculous but that didn't matter because I wasn't staring very much at your dress anyway... not that part of it at least, and then I keep seeing HIM, that kriffing Jedi **bastard** - THAT OBI-WAN!

He _stole_ you from ME, Padmé! You and I were going to go away together and be happy together in our own little world where the galaxy could have gone to hell in a fracking handbasket for all I cared but it would have been you and me and we would have been kriffing _happy_, because I only EVER wanted to make you happy; and that BASTARD had to go kark it all up, and, and, and, I CANNOT LET HIM GO DO YOU UNDERSTAND HE TOOK AWAY THE ONLY HAPPINESS I HAD and now _you're_ gone, and the _kid_ is gone, and _**my kriffing LIMBS are GONE TOO**_; and - and - and this is the BIG THING - my **hair**, my lovely _hair_ is also GONE, and it is **all OBI-WAN'S FAULT**.

FORCE I HATE THE MAN SO MUCH I WOULD DO ANYTHING TO HAVE HIM DEAD

Dear sweet Padmé, I want you to be _happy_ where you are. I don't know if you can read this but every night - well, almost every night... ok, maybe every other weekend, but you _know_ it's not because I don't have time for you, you know it's because this kriffing job, it's so Important, and, and, I have Plans, Padmé - **plans** for the galaxy, you always wanted a _united galaxy_, right? I'm making your dreams come _true_, Padmé; and that's why I'm so stressed and irritable, I just have to get this right so you can be happy where you are.

I'm doing it all for **you**, Padmé.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Padmé:****

Life is so, so, _so_ very trying ever since you deserted me. No matter how hard I try, and you know I try very hard - nothing seems to go right. You wanted a united galaxy, Padmé, and that's what I've sworn to give you, but I keep being thwarted at every turn. Rebels! Scum! They seek to disestablish and overturn the order that my Master and I have imposed. They call it a "totalitarian dictatorship". I call them unenlightened fools who deserve nothing less than a slow, painful death under the probes of a fully-equipped torture droid. I can barely take a rest, Padmé. There is always one thing or another - like today. Why is it that every time I turn my back for ONE MINUTE, something HAPPENS on this Battle Station!

I spend a few hours meditating in my meditation capsule and we run out of toilet paper.

I spend a day trying to sort out the toilet paper shortage, and then suddenly there's a diahorrea outbreak.

I tackle the outbreak and institute proceedings to determine which of our staff simply lack the mettle for serving the Empire, and the next thing I know, people start layering the floors AND WALLS with excrement, there is *shit* in the vents, pots of weed appear out of NO WHERE (how the frack did they even get imported into this station, evidently there is a security breach which the ADIMRAL will be held personally responsible for - this is what happens when you promote one of these upstart females, why can't I have a dependable MALE ADMIRAL) and then the bloody pipes start breaking left right and centre -

But of course, you know that it's just a turn of speech, don't you, Padmé? I have nothing against you. Or most women. In fact, I haven't had anything against any woman since that time in your ship, during the bloody wars that kept us apart for too, too, long - and you know I never did like the holomags, Padmé, nothing beats the real thing, and you were so warm, and alive and Captain Panaka wasn't looking and do you know why? Because I fiddled with his head, that's why! But I digress -

The Force. The Force is making fun of me. AGAIN.

And you always said I should take care of my health, Padmé. So I did. I had a vacation. A sort of working vacation. I went to Hoth. Did some skiing. Fell off the last jump which pissed me off because I shouldn't have fallen off, and I WOULD NOT have fallen off, I am an expert with the skis and even IF I WERE NOT (which I AM), I *could not* have fallen off, because the Force is Strong Within Me, and I would have Force-flipped myself into a better landing position, or avoided that frozen-over block of kriffing ICE covered with kriffing SNOW entirely; were it not for a bloody urgent call from Tech Support, or someone, it escapes me now, but the POINT is: THE POINT IS - someone called me, and told me there was Brown Liquid coming out from my chambers.

MY chambers.

BROWN liquid.

It's like a kriffing freak show, this Battle Station. Like I can't afford to so much as karking *blink* or else next thing maybe someone WILL smuggle Ewoks aboard because they bloody think they're PETS, or that they're ALLOWED TO HAVE PETS ON BOARD THE SHIP and well they would be WRONG - there are NO PETS on the Death Star, we are committed soldiers, we are Agents of Doom And Destruction, and we will be RUTHLESS in our efficiency.

...please don't let this upset you, Padmé. You know I am only doing all this for you. You're all that has kept me going these lonely years.

Sometimes I think I am losing my mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTES TO SELF - RE SECURITY BREACH**

[This to be memorised for later delivery to a gathering of high-ranking Imperial officers and Heads Of Department]

* * *

I have called this Emergency Meeting of the Security Committee owing to recent _incidents_.

First and foremost, WHAT THE KARK HAVE YOU LOT BEEN DOING! _**[point finger accusingly]**_

Have you all been kriffing SLEEPING on the job!

What has got to HAPPEN before you lot karking wake the bloody hell up? Do I have to DO EVERYTHING MYSELF! **_[pace around room. Force-push furniture out of way if necessary]_**

Security breaches! _Serious _security breaches!

**_[Bang fist on table for emphasis. Point at highest-ranking officer in room in randomly threatening manner as if to Force choke; always works]_**

And internal discipline is grievously lacking! _Here_! I am SICK AND TIRED of having to repeat myself ad nauseam, you lot GRADUATED from the Imperial Academy, I DON'T KNOW HOW - some of you were fucking ADMIN SCHOLARS, I know that you _**[point]**_, you _**[point]**_, and YOU **_[point] _**were Imperial Scholars while that bloody lot in the back are fast-track Empire Law Clerks -

I have only ONE question. **_[Pause. Make it dramatic!]_**

HOW, for the love of the Force, have things gotten so completely OUT OF HAND when a bunch of top-grade talent is supposedly IN CHARGE!

I cannot be physically present EVERYWHERE. THAT is why we have middle management. YOU LOT ARE MIDDLE MANAGEMENT. So fracking well DO some 'managing', or _else_.

Toilet paper. Water. Sewage and piping issues. Fracking SHIT lying in the fracking CORRIDORS, kriffing HEALTH ISSUES. The kriff did DEWBACK RODS get into the garbage compressors! Bloody weed turning up left, right and centre. Karking HIPPIE troopers - Manpower, I want answers!

Answers. There WILL be answers.

_**[Force-choke the first fool who dares to anwer, make dramatic exit]

* * *

**_

Oh, Padmé...!

Do you see how hard I am trying to make everyone fall into line so that all this will work out? I miss you so bad, Padmé. And I'm frackin' angry, too. I don't even know where you're buried, and I want to see you again, so badly - if only I knew where you were, I would dig up your grave and take out your bones and hold them close to me just so I could feel you beside me once more, like how we used to lie together in the grass in your father's estate on Naboo, and I'd put you in a beautiful box - a Jabor wood box, remember the snippet I gave you? I would denude Tatooine again just to make you a box, because YOU ARE WORTH IT ALL, and I would put your bones in the box and keep them in my room so that you would always be with me, forever and nobody could take us away from each other again like that BASTARD OBI-WAN!

The kriffing JEDI stole you from me, Padmé - Obi-Wan, that karking Jedi BASTARD stole you from me! He came and _poisoned_ your mind, your bright and beautiful and sparkling and lively mind and I know, I _know_ in the very depths of my being it was HIM who told you that I had changed; that I wasn't the man you met, that I was no longer the man you loved. And you fell for it like a sorry fool - hook, line and sinker.

But I don't blame you, Padmé. Not one bit. It's the woman in you, and it's not your fault you were... psycho-ed by that Jedi FREAK OBI-WAN KENOBI because I am damn well sure he used a frackin' mind-trick or some shit like that on you, which is the only thing he is good at apart from telling FRACKING SHITTY LITTLE LIES ABOUT OTHERS for no reason - no reason at all! - and his bloody "It's true, from a _certain point of view_" bullshit, it's complete and utter TRIPE and don't I know it! ...and karking hell, Padmé, you stupid nerf - why the kark did you even believe him at all? NEVER TRUST OBI-WAN, can I make it any plainer? See, it's OBI-WAN who destroyed our family or what would have been **OUR FAMILY** with his incessant kriffing JEDI MEDDLING and going around spreading shitty stories about people, the shit-stirring shit-smearer that he is because HE MADE ME SO ANGRY -

And I didn't choke you to death, Padmé, I _swear on my honour_ that it wasn't me, I didn't do it - OBI-WAN did and I was not myself then, you know I would NEVER hurt you, you mean so much to me: you, and all you stood for like a bright beacon in the darkness that was my world, you were my light and everything I looked foward to each morning (sometimes each evening too) and, and, and, you have no idea what it was like to be a frackin' PADAWAN for all those years, not seeing you... not knowing what you were doing... wondering where you were and looking out over Coruscant each night and staring in the direction of Naboo, just staring, and wanting... wanting, wanting so _BADLY_ to be able to spot your window, like how the kriff would I know which was YOUR window anyway, even if Naboo were within plain sight - you know what I mean -

It was ever so lonely, Padmé, but just thinking about you and hoping to see you again one day like I KNEW I WOULD, don't ask me, I just KNEW - got me through it all.

I don't know what I'm doing now without you, Padmé. Tomorrow I will direct my spies to infiltrate your father's estate and investigate into where you were buried. I **will** have you with me again, Padmé, I will - and nothing will stop me.


	4. Chapter 4

**RE: SEMIANNUAL STAFF PERFORMANCE REVIEW - NOT ON TARGET**

WHY is it that every time I turn my back for ONE MINUTE, something HAPPENS on this Battle Station!

I spend a few hours meditating in my meditation capsule and we run out of toilet paper.

I spend a day trying to sort out the toilet paper shortage, and then suddenly there's a diahorrea outbreak.

I tackle the outbreak and institute proceedings to determine which of our staff simply lack the mettle for serving the Empire, and the next thing I know, people start layering the floors AND WALLS with excrement, there is unmentionable material in the vents, pots of Gungan bonga-weed appear out of _nowhere_ (how the KRIFF did they even get imported into this station, evidently there is a security breach somewhere: I intend to hold one of the Admirals personally responsible) and then the bloody water pipes start breaking left, right and centre -

The Force. The Force is making fun of me. AGAIN.

I do not find this funny! I am not amused! DAMN YOU, FORCE. And kark on your kriffing antics.

SO. So. So.

Went to Hoth. Lovely piste. Did some skiing. Fell off the last jump which pissed me off because I shouldn't have fallen off, and I WOULD NOT have fallen off, I am an expert with the skis and even IF I WERE NOT (which I AM), I could not have fallen off, because _the Force is Strong Within Me_, and I would have Force-flipped myself into a better landing position, or avoided that frozen-over block of fracking ICE covered with fracking SNOW entirely; were it not for a bloody urgent call from Tech Support, or someone, it escapes me now, but the POINT is: THE POINT IS - someone called me, and told me there was Brown Liquid coming out from my chambers.

MY chambers.

BROWN liquid.

What the kriff is BROWN LIQUID doing in my chambers!

It's like a karking freak show, this Battle Station. Like I can't afford to so much as karking _blink_ or else next thing maybe someone WILL smuggle Ewoks aboard because they fracking think they're PETS, or that they're ALLOWED TO HAVE PETS ON BOARD THE SHIP and well they would be WRONG - there are NO PETS on the Death Star, we are committed soldiers, we are Agents of Doom And Destruction, and we will be RUTHLESS in our efficiency.

...

Ran into ion storm. Controls got fried. Came out of ion storm, ran into a couple of Rebel bandits, took those down fairly easily especially because they were, for reasons unknown, entirely besmirched with what appears to be encrustations of a biological nature (I really do NOT wish to know) and their pilots couldn't see. Too bad.

Returned to Death Star to find floors and walls (reasonably) clean.

Was met by a FULL SQUADRON of troopers behaving in a deplorable fashion.

HIP THRUSTS. In sync. IN FORMATION.

I even spotted one of the Red Guards engaging in that gyrating motion which reminds me of the time I was on honeym-

...

I demanded to speak to the Head of Procurement or Manpower, naturally. It appears that the said pots of Gungan bonga-weed had been chucked into the **central incinerator** instead of being disposed of by means of compaction and ejection. **This.** This is the reason why I am personally convinced that 94% of the beings on board this Station ought to have been smothered at birth. Have we not already had a previous 'accident' with the venting when some blasted MORON dumped a similar item into the incinerators? Once is an accident, but twice -?

I WILL GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS. THERE WILL BE PAIN.


	5. Chapter 5

Oh, Padmé, Padmé, Padmé...!

Today is our 18th wedding anniversary. At least I _think_ it's the 18th, because it's so hard to keep track of time when one spends nearly every moment of every day in this _awful_, stifling metal bucket. It's hot, and sweaty, and sometimes I swear, Padmé it feels like my freaking helmet is closing in on me and I want to scream because I can barely breathe, and all I can hear is the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears - and it's horrible, Padmé, horrible... and then the spots swim before my eyes and it makes me so angry, Padmé... _so angry_ -

You know why I'm angry, Padmé? Because it's kriffing unfair, that's why! I had lovely brown hair once - a head full of it. Remember how you used to lie next to me at night and run your hands through my hair while we - Oh, Force - you were such a turn-on... you still are, Padmé. When I can find a spare moment. in between briefings.

See, Padmé? You were wrong. I can joke! I just made a joke. Debriefings between briefings. Ha, ha, ha.

Force, I miss hearing your voice so much. This year I really made an effort just for you. Because I know that you would not have wanted me to forget you or our wedding, it was so special: just you and me and the droids - we could have stayed like that for ages, Padmé... the four of us - why the kriff did you have to go and get yourself _pregnant_ for? I thought you were smarter than that.

But the point is, I made an effort. And now I'm so kriffing pissed off and mad because I was supposed to go to your family's little home on Naboo, but as usual, some jackasses had to kriff things up here - oh, I forgot to tell you, Padmé! Your family home is safe. Nobody will **ever** disturb anything in it, ever again. _Everything_ inside it - the furniture, the carpets, the rugs, the dishes in the kitchen - **everything **will stay as it was the day I first went to your home.

Your room, and your little bed, and that chest of drawers you kept your papers in - yes, nothing will ever change from now on. Oh, I've had to plan for so long, Padmé! Just to get things to be the way that I wanted them to be. Your family didn't like my idea! They made things so _difficult_ for me, Padmé - I swear, I didn't want to cause them any more grief than was _strictly _necessary... but they made things so _difficult_, with their refusing to move out and insisting that it was **their** property, that the Empire had no rights to be there... Utter rubbish...! The Emperor is supreme, and his word is law: how _dare _your family think to challenge an Imperial edict?

Do you know your fool grandmother actually had the idiot idea to file a _contesting suit_? ...She forced my hand, Padmé. She forced my hand! I could have forgotten about her meddling and how she tried to rake up all that muck about how, how I was responsible for your death - can you _believe_ that, Padmé? **Me**! Responsible! The slander! I never hurt you, Padmé... I never did, I swear - I was never angry at you, only the Jedi... and I killed them all, **all**; all I wanted to do was frighten you, maybe knock some sense into you -

No! It's not _my_ fault you died - I'm not responsible, don't look at me like that, Padmé -

I'll tell you who was karking responsible - it was that karking Obi-Wan bastard: he stole you from me, he lied to you about me, he made you believe things that were not true and he _blinded_ you, Padmé - you were always so innocent and trusting and good and pure that you would never have believed the things I could tell you about him - but that's the tragedy of it all... oh, Padmé - what a betrayal! You were supposed to stand with me... by my side as I conquered the galaxy - for you, for us! Bringing peace and stability to all the people we could reach, and you know the Force has always been strong with me - there is nothing I would not, cannot accomplish: and I wanted you to be there by my side when I did it!

But you were not. Can you blame me, Padmé? Can you blame me for wanting to preserve some small memory of you?

So I had to put a stop to her meddling. First the muckraking, and then she contests the Empire's seizure of your family's property. So I had to... resort to... other means.

Don't worry, Padmé. It wasn't too inconvenient for me. Just a... little more _expensive_ than I'd have liked, but like you said - one gets what one pays for, and that Boba Fett guy really **is** the best assassin around for parsecs.

Of course, if your stupid grandmother and aunt hadn't been so persistent, I'd have been spared the expense... but you are worth anything, anything to me, Padmé. I would bleed the galaxy dry ten times, a _hundred_ times over, if it would please you. Would it please you, Padmé? Understand, my dear - often one has to kill many in order to spare a few. That's just the way life is. You were always too soft to be decisive.

But at least now, you can rest knowing that your family home has been preserved, just the way it was, when you still lived there. Next year, I will give you your old Senatorial apartment in Coruscant. I hear your sister lives there now. Let us hope she is more sensible than your other relations.


End file.
